


Kiss Me

by literaryspell



Category: White Collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryspell/pseuds/literaryspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I am relaxed," Neal said, tossing a painted grin up at Peter like Peter could be so easily convinced. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://afiawri.livejournal.com/profile)[**afiawri**](http://afiawri.livejournal.com/) and [](http://tanzenlicht.livejournal.com/profile)[**tanzenlicht**](http://tanzenlicht.livejournal.com/). Huge thanks to you both!  
> 

Kissing Neal Caffrey was an art form Peter very much wanted to perfect.

There was so much to _do_ , so much to think about while kissing Neal. Of course, his mind tended to get ahead of itself, and he'd start thinking about Neal's cock and Neal's tight little hole and the sounds Neal made when Peter touched him just the right way. But if he was able to focus, kissing was all he needed.

Peter had always been a fan of kissing. El gave the best kisses, soft and hard and so full of everything that was _them_ that he fell in love with her kisses as much as her because they were the same.

Kissing was intimate. Kissing was special. It was one thing to be inside another's body, but it was something entirely different to be in their _mouth,_ where their words come from (words stolen), where their breath came from (breath stolen).

And Neal fucking _loved_ Peter's kisses, so what else could they do?

Neal arched up off the couch, his chest pressed against Peter's even as Peter pulled back. Neal followed, grasping at him with desperate hands, doing anything to keep their mouths together, to not lose Peter's tongue, his teeth, his lips. Peter loved how Neal needed him, how he dropped the façade to let Peter in, just like this, just with kisses.

When fucking Neal, Peter sometimes thought it was like having sex with one of Neal's aliases. His moans were almost practised, his movements almost rehearsed. Kissing, though… that was different. That was abandon; that was desperation.

Peter pushed Neal back onto the couch, keeping his hands on Neal's shoulder to pin him. Neal writhed for a moment before seeming to realize Peter wasn’t going to be enticed back down—not right away.

"Neal," Peter whispered. "Relax." Beneath him, Neal was tensed muscles and gasping breaths.

"I am relaxed," Neal said, tossing a painted grin up at Peter like Peter could be so easily convinced.

Peter rolled his eyes and let Neal pull him back down. Neal's lips were waiting, but Peter moved to his neck—and Neal wasted no time tilting his head to one side, baring himself for Peter's teeth, for Peter's mark.

The skin under his lips tasted of nothing with a hint of salt and maybe just the smallest bite of cologne. Neal was warm, warmer than normal, maybe. When Peter's lips paused just over his pulse, they tickled with the beat of Neal's heart, moving faster the longer Peter stayed in one place. When he bit down, Neal keened for a half-second before breaking off the sound by biting his own lips.

Peter lifted up and tugged Neal's lower lip free with his thumb. It was indented, his sharp teeth having left a mark. Peter didn’t like Neal being marked in any way but by him. He moved so slow that he knew Neal would be anticipating contact, and he was rewarded with a warm sigh when his teeth closed over Neal's full lower lip.

Neal tried to start a kiss, but he was foiled. Peter bit down harder, and Neal made a noise in his throat. His eyes opened but there was only heat there. Peter tugged and Neal followed and Peter felt so _powerful_ —he released the lip and it was white for a second before the blood flooded back in beneath the skin, turning it a dark pink and making it so much more sensitive for when Peter kissed him.

Their lips slid together in a tease, no tongues, just quick little presses of mouths until Neal began to get worked up again. When Neal kissed, his body didn’t stop: his hips moved, his hands explored, his toes clenched. Neal would get off just from kissing, was probably well on his way already.

Peter lowered his body to cover Neal's, whose legs were spread to accommodate him. Neal immediately began to rock, to grind up against Peter's body, his hard cock pressing against Peter's groin in that selfish, greedy, and all-about-pleasure way that was so perfectly Neal.

Neal's mouth was wild now—Neal was wild now. Their kisses grew less structured as Neal lost control. Neal's tongue swiped at Peter's lips, flicking over them and adding to their slickness. He kissed and withdrew, trying to make Peter kiss him the way _he_ wanted instead of the way Peter wanted, which was steady and methodical and just this side of satisfying.

When Neal started making the noises, though, Peter knew he was lost. Neal exhaled little whispers of words against Peter's lips, little _ohs_ and _uhs_ that stole the air right from Peter's lungs. Neal's hips were moving steadily now, and Peter could tell it was almost over. He drove his tongue past Neal's lips, smiling as the mouth under his parted without hesitation. He stroked along Neal's tongue, playing with him until Neal made a noise of dissatisfaction. Then he sucked Neal's tongue into his mouth and nipped it, toying with him.

"Don't stop, don't stop," Neal chanted when he broke the kiss to gasp for air. His head fell back onto the couch cushion and Peter didn’t stop because, yes, Neal did whatever Peter wanted but Peter did anything Neal asked as well. He just never asked much—except things like _harder_ and _here, please,_ and _don't stop._

He didn’t stop. He kissed Neal hard, almost punishing him for the fact that he was going to come. Neal's hands scrabbled at Peter's shoulder, any port in the storm, and he cried into Peter's mouth as he climaxed. Though he shuddered and stiffened, eyes clenched shut, he never stopped kissing, never stopped receiving Peter.

"Don't stop," Neal whispered once more, opening his eyes and letting Peter in. "Kiss me."

 

End.


End file.
